Howard Moon's Guide to Being Classy
by Lugian Before Swine
Summary: Pre-S1 AU which grew from chapter 4 of Take It Back, "Classy." Vince is a new Zooniverse employee, and Howard is trying his best to date him- err, help him. Also, Bob Fossil is creepy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Because I really needed to start a new chapter fic. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, Noel and Julian do. But I own their souls, so it all works out in the end. Hah. Kidding.**

Bob Fossil had never claimed that he had a way with people. In fact, all of his employees frequently claimed the opposite. But when someone burst out of his office—a new employee, Howard guessed, from the freshly laundered uniform—screaming, "Get away from me, you pervert!" the fact was firmly compounded.

The new kid, as Howard had spontaneously began to call him in his head, ran off and scuttled around a corner, disappearing from view.

And that was the day that Howard began his quest to save The New Kid.

On the next day, a crisp, early fall morning, Howard trips over a leaf outside Fossil's office and falls into the open door.

Fossil looks up. There's a staple stuck in his finger, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Moon!" he shouts happily, as Howard rights himself in the doorframe, "I knew that would work. It's the oldest trick in the book. The old put-a-leaf-outside-your-open-office-door-and-wait-for-someone-to-fall-in." He leans toward the door and whispers, "I read about it in a porno. Don't tell!"

"What do you want, Mr. Fossil?" Howard asks, but as soon as the words have left his mouth, the new kid bolts through the doorway and slams directly into Howard's back.

"Shit! Sorry," he says. "I didn't realize…"

"It's all right," Howard says, and offers his hand. The new kid shakes it, and when he looks into Howard's eyes, Howard realizes he's not a kid at all, he's just a bit short and hiding behind his fringe. "I'm Howard," he says after an awkward pause wherein he had forgotten how to speak.

"Vince," the not-kid says, and after a moment he looks down pointedly at their hands, still joined together.

"Oh," Howard says, and snaps his hand back. He would be blushing, but Howard Moon doesn't do that.

Fossil says, "Oi, you freakish lovebirds, get outta my office before I kick you out! Literally! My foot on your collective asses! Or other places!" and for once Howard is thankful for Fossil's random outbursts, although he wishes the words could have been much, much different.

"Right, then," Vince says, and he turns and leaves.

Howard stands still, clutching the doorframe. His heart is beating approximately as fast as the time the shark escaped and nearly ate his hand. That was a horrifying experience. Howard shudders with the recollection, then realizes that Fossil is staring at him, his mouth open and drool pooling at the edges, and Howard flees before it can get any worse.

After waiting what seems to be an appropriate amount of time, Howard goes to seek out Vince. He's decided to become what he likes to think of as a mentor, of sorts—teach him about the animals, show him his way around the zoo, help him avoid Fossil—but the fact that, in order to accomplish this, he will have to actually talk to Vince and attempt to be normal is a bit troubling.

However, as everyone knows, Howard Moon is a man of utmost class, which is why he runs into Vince while turning a corner. To his surprise, Vince laughs. "We keep running into each other. Just think about what would happen if we walked together. We'd be bowling people over like a great steam engine. GET OUTTA THE WAY OR BE CRUSHED! Can you imagine?" He laughs again, and the sound causes Howard's chest to tighten in a mildly unpleasant way.

"Err…yeah, it'd be chaotic," Howard says. On a sudden stroke of semi-creepy inspiration, he adds, "Do you want to try anyway?"

"Try what?" Vince asks. "Walking together? Sure. Let's go find Mr. Fossil and run him down. He's well creepy, d'you know that? Yesterday was my first day, right, I went into the office to get my uniform and such, and he says, 'Come here, Vincey,' all horrifying, 'sit on my knee and I'll tell you a story.' Well, I freaked out. Is he always like that?"

Howard takes a moment to marvel at how much Vince can say without taking a breath, then says, "Yeah. No one likes him, but he doesn't realize. And he's our boss, so we can't be too mean to him…"

"You know what'd be a genius way to get back at him?" Vince's eyes look bluer than usual. Not that Howard is paying them any special attention.

"What?"

"Turn invisible, right? Take a cup, like, a heavy mug, or somethin', and just chuck it at him."

Howard isn't exactly sure how to respond to that, so he just says, "We'll figure something out," and Vince seems to accept this answer.

"So," Vince begins, "I guess we should work."

"Oh, well, actually…" This is slightly more embarrassing than Howard had planned for. He can't pinpoint why, and this troubles him. "I was thinking that I could…umm…show you around. Help you out, you know. With the zoo stuff. Your work. You're new, and…I'm not." Howard's classiness is thankfully saving him from blushing. Hopefully.

Vince laughs. A piece of Howard's soul melts. "That'd be great. I haven't seen an actual animal yet."

Howard begins to feel more comfortable. This is what long-time employees do: help the new ones. Only this new one isn't like any of the others. "Let's start with the aquarium. There's a fish in there, a bit scary but important to know, by the name of Tony the Prawn…"

Vince is walking with him, and they're not destroying anything. In fact, Howard gets the distinct feeling that something is beginning to be built.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm not going to up the rating yet, but be warned, this contains swearing. I'm pretty sure all the chapters do/will.**

"You know, there're hardly any animals in this zoo," Vince says. "Why is that?"

"Fossil eats them," Howard says, and Vince laughs.

"Of course."

Howard has officially known Vince for three days, and he's pretty damn sure Vince is his soulmate. Some people—okay, the vast majority of people—would say that it's much too soon to be sure of that. Howard, if asked, would vehemently disagree, and his conclusion is mostly based upon the fact that Vince is perfect in every single way possible, and is also the most beautiful human he has ever seen—not the most beautiful anything ever, because Jack Cooper would be offended by that. But Howard puts the vicious negativity behind him and focuses on the present.

If only Howard wasn't so nervous all the time. Vince has a habit of looking especially alluring when Howard least expects it—like when asking which muck fork to use to clean up dung. It throws Howard's attempted suave-ness off, so instead of saying, "The red one," he ends up with, "The what now? Oh, yeah, that. Umm," which is not suave in the least and also not at all helpful.

Today, though, he has a chance. Bob Fossil has begun to think of them as the same person, so whenever he assigns a task to one of them, he assumes they'll both do it. This suits Howard's purposes well, because it means that he and Vince are together all day. Every day. For the rest of their lives. And beyond. Today, their job is to help set up a newly finished building, created for the zookeepers to live in (built mainly because of complaints that all sounded almost identical to 'The ride here is so fucking _long_! I'm gonna quit if this keeps up!') No one knows where the money came from, but rumors circulated among the staff that it had something to do with Dixon Bainbridge's mustache.

Regardless, the building had been finished the previous day, and furniture had been delivered in the morning.

The building had been designed to house all the employees, but only if they lived in pairs in the small, connected houses. Fossil had chosen the pairs, which meant "Moon and Noir are essentially the same person. That'll work," which was something Howard was ridiculously happy about, and Vince, judging by his expression when he heard the news, was perfectly okay with.

"This is great," Vince says, as he surveys the furniture lying haphazardly in a pile around them, "We can pick the best stuff for our room. Like, that chair over there with the clawmarks on it, let's save that for someone else."

Howard laughs, and Vince smiles. This has been a trend between them recently: one of them will laugh and the other will smile. Howard would like to think it's a sign.

"Right then, _that_ chair looks okay, though, yeah? And that table is pretty nice, too…"

It's been nearly six hours, and the furniture has all been moved in except for a truly hideous rug in a puke-green color that Vince suspects got that way from actually being puked on. Howard is inclined to agree, so they drop it off in Fossil's office while he's visiting the little boys' room.

Vince and Howard stand shoulder-to-shoulder in their room, surveying their work. "This is good," Vince says. "A bit boring, maybe, with all the brown, but when I bring my stuff from home, that'll change."

Howard thinks that this may be their first disagreement—as he is in fact quite fond of all the brown in the room—but he lets the comment slide and says, "It's nice. And we have the best chair."

"It'd be better if it weren't brown," Vince says.

Howard is beginning to become troubled. Is this going to be a major issue? What does Vince have against brown? The chair in question is the perfectly lovely shade of Raging Muffin; what could possibly be wrong with that?

Then Vince takes his hand and laces their fingers together.

Howard's brain says, "Mmmgghhlll," which is, coincidentally, very similar to the sound that comes out of his mouth.

Vince looks down at their hands, then into Howard's eyes. "Roommates," he says. "This is gonna be fun."

If Howard could speak properly, he would agree. Instead, his mind starts thinking of the connotations of the word 'fun,' and he nods, and then opens his mouth in an attempt to say something that isn't gibberish, just so Vince knows how very okay he is with this.

Unfortunately, Bob Fossil chooses this moment to check on their progress. He comes in behind them, and Vince and Howard turn simultaneously at the sound of footsteps. When they see who it is, they practically leap to opposite sides of the small room. _Damn. It's not like Fossil cares. He wouldn't notice a workplace romance if he was involved in it. Hah. Fossil in a relationship. That's rich._

While Howard has been temporarily sidetracked by his thoughts, Fossil has been speaking. "—about time," he says. "Also, someone dropped off a rug in my office. It's mine now. I named her Shirley. She's got character. Anyway, bye!" and with that, he leaves.

"…Well," Vince says after a moment. "I suppose we have to go home tonight. Go collect our stuff and that."

"Right," Howard says. "See you tomorrow, little man."

Vince cocks his head at him. "What?"

Howard is confused. "What did I say? I said, "See you tomorrow, Vince.'"

Vince begins to smile. "You did not."

"Well, what else would I have—" _Oh._

Vince is grinning. "You gave me a nickname."

"I didn't mean to!" Howard cries. He feels like he should be flailing his arms. Should he flail? That's always a good option. Maybe it would send the blood out of his face and into his arms.

"No, it's okay," Vince says, grin still in place. "I like it."

"Oh. Well," Howard says. "Okay," he adds, when Vince doesn't say anything.

Vince laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. "I'll see you, then," he says.

"Right. Bye," Howard says. And Vince walks out of the little house, his grin seemingly stuck to his face.

Howard puts his hand over his heart. It's racing like he just ran a marathon. _If this keeps up, I'm going to die before we even have our first date. Which will happen. Hopefully._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Enjoy! Yup, I think that's it.**

After Vince's many declarations of hating the color brown in all its lovely shades, Howard had been expecting his stuff from home to be much more flamboyant than Howard's modest furnishings. What he didn't expect was what seemed to be one of Vince's most treasured possessions: a toaster.

"Not just a toaster!" Vince exclaims excitedly. "A toaster that burns a smiley face onto your bread! Genius, yeah?"

Howard stares. The toaster is pink. "That's…nice, yes."

When Vince serves him toast, which he says is the only thing he can successfully cook, Howard has to hide the toast in his pockets instead of eating it because the smiley face staring into his mouth when he goes to take a bite is highly discomforting.

The other prized possessions of Vince's are about a million and a half copies of a magazine called Cheekbone, which Howard has never heard of and has no desire to read. Vince places them one by one into the tiny bookcase, leaving room for only one of Howard's books. Vince explains that, although the fashions go out of date within the week, you never know when something is going to come back strong.

"So you can't get rid of any of them?" Howard asks, staring incredulously at the bookcase filled with magazines.

"Nope," Vince says. "Gotta be prepared, you know?"

Howard doesn't know. He also doesn't know what to do with his seven other books that have been ejected from the bookcase.

_The things we do for the ones we love. Wait, is it too soon to be thinking about that? Am I coming across as paranoid or desperate? Or both? No, this is only in my head. He can't hear me thinking. Can he? No. No, he can't. …Yeah, definitely both._

It's been two weeks, and though Vince has always been pleasant and for the most part polite, Howard is beginning to worry that Vince secretly hates him, which would drastically alter the whole soulmates thing.

Bob Fossil, who Howard is eternally grateful for and also hates with the passion of a mortally wronged weasel (lots of passion in those creatures) approaches the aquarium, where Howard and Vince are cleaning tanks.

"I'm telling you," Vince is saying, "he's terrifying! Eyes like black fists, looking right into your soul—"

"Good morning, losers!" Fossil calls. Howard and Vince turn simultaneously. "I have a special assignment for you," he continues. "Straight from Bainbridge!" he adds in an excited whisper.

Although Dixon Bainbridge can, on occasion, be even more horrible than Fossil himself, Howard is pleased that their work is finally getting noticed by their higher-up boss. "What is it, then?" Howard asks, a note of excitement in his voice.

Fossil leans in closer to them. Vince discreetly backs away. "It's…" he says in a whisper. "The very special task of…"

"…Yes?" Howard asks after a few seconds of strained silence.

"THE FRICKIN' LION ESCAPED! GO GET HIM BEFORE HE RAVAGES THE WHOLE ZOO!" Fossil screams. Spit flies everywhere. Vince gives up being discreet and brushes it off his uniform, a look of complete disgust on his face.

"Are you serious?" Howard cries, but Fossil has run away like a little girl, screaming and heading for the relative safety of his office.

A roar comes from the direction of the reptile house.

"Shit!" Howard says, then mentally berates himself. This is no time for foul language. This is the time to prove to Vince that he, Howard, is a true Man of Action.

He squares his shoulders against the horror and addresses Vince. "C'mon, little man. Into the fray."

"This is well nasty! I've come to accept this uniform as a semi-valuable piece of fashion, and then Fossil comes along and destroys it. All I can say is I hope this comes out in the wash."

Howard pauses to consider the ill-timed nature of Vince's statement, then grabs his arm and tugs. "Let's recapture this lion."

Recapturing the lion turns out to be much more terrifying than Howard had expected. After a chase through the hoofed mammals area, into the aviary, and out through the aquarium, the lion has returned to the reptile house and cornered Vince and Howard. Well, to be completely fair, Howard is much more cornered because he's currently huddled against the wall hiding behind Vince.

Vince stares the lion in the eyes. Howard leans a bit to the right to watch the action from around the side of Vince's leg. "Don't look at him like that! He's ready to strike! Oh God, I don't want to die!" The lion is curled in an almost-spring, a position suited for stalking prey.

Vince is silent.

"Vince!" Howard cries. "Stop it! He's going to lunge! Oh dear God, don't kill me! I have so much to give!"

The lion looks at Howard, then back at Vince. Suddenly, he relaxes and sits down on his haunches. Vince sighs in relief.

Howard stands up slowly, clutching to the side of Vince's jacket. "What happened?"

The lion stands up and calmly leaves the reptile house.

"He's leaving!" Howard shrieks. "Not again!"

"Shh," Vince says, "he's going back to the lion exhibit. He promised, in exchange for some fresh antelope tomorrow. Don't know where I'm gonna get that, though…antelope exhibit, I guess."

"…What are you on about?" Howard says after a moment. He unlatches himself from Vince's side to look him in the eyes.

"Well…" Vince rubs the back of his head, thinks better of it, and idly sets about to fixing his hair. "…I can talk to animals," he says finally.

Howard stares blankly at him. "You what?"

"It's a gift, I guess. I grew up in the jungle, see, and there were all these fantastic animals there and I didn't even realize it was strange to be able to talk to them until I left, and no one was talking to their dogs and stuff like that." Vince looks down, like he's been forced to reveal a shameful secret.

Howard would like to question this, but it seems like another story for another time. Or many stories for a large number of times. "Well," he says after a few awkward seconds. "That's quite a gift. Very helpful at a zoo." He pauses. "You may or may not have saved my life. I'm fairly certain you did." There's no reason to be blushing; why is he blushing?

Vince looks up and smiles at him. "Yeah, I guess so. I know how you can pay me back, though."

Howard swallows. This sounds bad. This sounds good in a bad way. "Yeah?"

"You can at least try to eat my toast. You know the faces aren't actual humans, yeah?"

Howard doesn't know whether to be mortified or relieved. He settles on a mix of both and says, "So you noticed."

"Of course I did," Vince laughs. "I'm not completely daft. At least not _completely_."

Howard smiles. "I know."

Vince says, "The lion told me something interesting."

"Really?" Howard asks.

"He said that you looked tastier. Whatever he meant by that. I'm sure he meant fat-wise, not fashion-wise. I obviously have a very tasty style."

"What do you mean 'fat-wise,' sir?" Howard asks, indignant. "I'm perfectly lean. I'm trim. Have you seen my legs lately? They're like willows. Trim, lean, strong willows. Yes, sir."

Vince laughs, and even Howard knows when his sense of self-pride has gotten out of hand, so he laughs too. And then Vince's face is on his shoulder, Vince's hair tickling his ear.

Howard freezes. What does this mean? Should he do something? Like what? Vince smells like strawberries. And sweat. The scents mingle oddly well together.

"We're alive," Vince says into the collar of Howard's jacket.

Howard unfreezes, quickly searches for something to say, and comes up with, "Indeed, we are." _Really? That the best you could do?_

Vince laughs. The vibration feels funny against Howard's collarbone. He lifts his head to look Howard in the eyes. "Do you get into this kind of trouble often?"

Howard thinks. Nothing like this incident has ever happened to him before, barring the time with the shark, and that was entirely Fossil's fault. Vince is changing his life in a number of ways, not all of them for the better. "Nope. Just with you."

"Good," Vince says. "Let's keep it that way." He smiles, idly playing with the cuff on one of Howard's sleeves. "I think we should probably go check on the lion, make sure he got back okay."

"Right," Howard says.

"Also, you're going to have to help me find an antelope," Vince says seriously.

_Life and love,_ Howard reminds himself as they walk to the lion exhibit, _are all about compromises._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is pure fluff. You will need to visit the dentist after reading this. You've been warned. XD**

Howard has deemed only three things a worthy interruption of his sleep: jazz, mortal peril, and the most recent inductee, Vince. So when he feels something poking his shoulder repeatedly and hears a voice saying "Howard! Howard…" he knows who it must be and he rolls over towards Vince.

As it turns out, Vince's face is very, very close to his—the moonlight shining through the window illuminates every feature of his face, making it look even closer than it is—and for a moment they both stop breathing before Howard shifts backwards.

Vince seems to recover himself—Howard is pleased that his accidental personal-space intrusion produced a visible effect—and says, "I've got to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"It's about Techno Mouse. You know how he's been depressed since before I got here? Well, it turns out that he was feeling really lonely! Yeah, he wanted to find a girl, see. He told me. So I felt bad for him, yeah, and I let him out just one night so he could find a girl. But he begged for me to keep letting him out nights because he wanted to court this lady mouse he had talked to that first night. So I agreed, and a few days ago he came back really happy!"

Howard interrupts Vince's story and says, "So you intentionally let an animal escape?" Sleeping on the floor of the room with Vince is nothing new (due to an ordering error, Fossil had forgotten a vital piece of furniture: beds), but nevertheless Howard's stomach is somersaulting from the proximity.

"He lets himself back in every morning before work starts! Anyway, the brilliant thing is, they're gettin' married tomorrow!"

"Wow," Howard says. He wasn't aware that mice had weddings. "So have you met his fiancée?"

"No, but he talks about her all the time," Vince says excitedly. "Thing is, you wouldn't think their relationship would work, coz they're very different."

"Oh?" Howard asks. "How so?" He's not focusing so much on the story as the light in Vince's eyes, and how it gives the illusion of them being bottomless.

Being unaware of this, Vince rambles on. "Well, she comes from a very poor family, and Techno Mouse is quite rich. His family actually owns a small but successful cheese factory, d'you know that? Fascinating. Also, she's well into jazz, and he'd taken a strict vow in the Anti-Jazz Club for Mice never to listen to it. He's gonna break the vow, though, and lose his membership, just coz he loves her so much. She wants a jazzy something played at their wedding, and he agreed. The power of love, yeah?"

Now Howard is definitely paying attention to the story. There must be a deeper reason Vince is telling him this story than what's apparent on the surface—he talks to the animals and likes to blabber on—it's supposed to convey a further meaning, a parallel to their lives, perhaps? Although, they're not mice, and also not (mutually) madly in love. But could it be possible?

While Howard's mind has been racing, Vince has been staring at him curiously. He's smiling just a little when he says, "What're you thinking about?"

"Huh?" Howard says. The question catches him off-guard, and he stumbles about for an answer: "Just…the mice," he says. "I'm glad Techno Mouse isn't depressed anymore."

"Yeah," Vince says. He's still smiling, but he looks a bit…_discouraged. Why?_

"Vince," Howard says, before he can stop himself, "is something wrong?"

"Yeah, you've got hair in your eyes," Vince says, not missing a beat, and before Howard can register that he hasn't felt anything irritating his eyes, Vince's hand is touching his cheek, his fingertips brushing back Howard's hair. Vince smiles at him, but it looks a bit forced, and he begins to withdraw his hand.

In a split second, Howard considers the things Vince has said and done—some annoying, some helpful, some just plain endearing—and makes a quick decision: he puts his own hand out to clasp Vince's.

They look at each other and say nothing. It's awkward having their hands in the air, so they tacitly agree to bring them down and rest on the piece of blanket between them.

Now Vince is genuinely smiling, and Howard knows that he is, too. His heart feels like it may explode in a burst of confetti while doing the Macarena, but for once it's perfectly pleasant.

Howard wants to ask, "Was there a hidden meaning? Why did you tell me that story? Is there anyone in the world more spectacular than you?" (Actually, he can answer the third question. It's a resounding 'absolutely not.')

But before he can open his mouth, Vince squeezes his hand and says, "Goodnight, Howard."

_I suppose the questions can wait. What is it they say, enjoy the moment?_ "Goodnight, Vince," Howard says, and Vince closes his eyes. Lying there next to him, Howard watches Vince drift to sleep, the smile still on his face. He gently tugs their hands to press against his chest, and Vince unconsciously moves closer, responding to the cue to move even in his sleep.

_Yes,_ Howard thinks, _I am indeed a man of action_, despite the fact that his heart is beating so loudly he's sure it'll wake Vince up.

It doesn't, though, and Howard watches Vince's eyelids flutter as he dreams, probably about jungles and candy and fantastic adventures that Howard hopes involve him. Vince's smile slowly fades away, but their hands still hold each other's.

Howard doesn't sleep again that night.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: More fluff, although with slightly more substance. Also, this is the second-to-last chapter.**

After the hand-holding incident of a few nights ago, Vince has taken to grabbing Howard's hand whenever he feels like it, usually at very inappropriate times like while they're sitting in Fossil's office talking about pay cuts. It's been a few days and they haven't talked about it at all, and as much as Howard enjoys holding hands with Vince, it means living in a near-constant state of nervousness bordering on panic, and Howard is genuinely afraid that his heart will spontaneously give out in the near future.

Howard is feeding the birds, and Vince is standing close by with a bird perched on his finger. Howard presumes they're having a chat, although about what, he can't imagine. Vince certainly doesn't slack when it comes to working, but sometimes he'll take "unscheduled breaks" which can last from a minute to an hour. Howard admires the way Vince can drop everything without caring if Fossil or Bainbridge sees. It's a skill Howard knows he'll never be able to master. Howard finishes pouring the bag of bird seed into the feed container and stands up to watch Vince.

It's a bit depressing, really, that Howard is so completely, irrevocably, and other related words that he can't currently think of, obsessed with Vince. Scratch that, _it's not obsession; it's devotion. Yeah, it's creepy either way._ Somewhere in a distant corner of his brain, Howard knows Vince is out of his league, but he refuses to acknowledge this. Especially now that Vince is showing affection for him. The voice says, _he's just leading you on,_ but Howard ignores it.

"Hey," Vince says. He puts the bird back in the cage.

Howard is lost in his own mind, so he doesn't hear Vince until he repeats himself. "Hey!"

"What?" Howard says. He looks around quickly. Checking for danger. Or something.

Suddenly, Vince is right next to him. When did that happen? Vince smiles at him. "We're done, you know. You spaced out there for a minute. Let's go check in with Fossil."

"Right," Howard says, although he has no desire to see Fossil right now or ever again. Also, he's still a bit distracted.

"Howard," Vince says, "you look strange. Are you all right?"

What does Vince mean he looks strange? He's just wearing his uniform as usual. Vince has been seeing it all day. Maybe he has something on his face. _Oh God, did that parakeet get me? They practically fling it, so hard to avoid—_

Vince takes Howard's hands one at a time, only it's different because it's got none of the giddy, childish enthusiasm Howard has grown accustomed to, and more of a gentle, almost mature air that briefly confuses Howard until his heart catches up with his mind and threatens to implode.

They're standing very close together, fingers interlocked, and Vince's fringe is falling into his face. _Is he trying to kill me? Maybe that's been his diabolical scheme all along, trying to kill me by giving me a glee-related heart attack. It's certainly probable._

"Am I bothering you?" Vince says.

Howard's mind reels, searching for both a truthful answer and an immediate response to the contrary. "No," he says, almost immediately. "No, Vince, it's just—I—God, I don't know what I'm saying. No, no, I do know what I'm saying, I'm just—I'm very confused. You're not bothering me. You've never bothered me. Actually, you've done the opposite—anti-bothering." He knows he's rambling, but he can't help it. He looks down at their hands and wants to cry. He feels like an infant, crying out of desperation because he doesn't know any other way to communicate what he wants.

But when he looks back up, Vince is smiling, which makes Howard feel better. "Anti-bothering—good to know," Vince says. "I'm glad."

"Vince," Howard says, because apparently the ramble train isn't about to make any stops very soon, "I don't want you to think you've ever been a hassle. To be honest, I was very—" He's about to say _lonely_ but stops himself. "—bored until you started working here. I'm…I'm so glad you're here. Now everything is okay. Better than okay." Vince is watching him with a solemn expression, but there's a lingering smile in his eyes. Howard becomes lost in them for a brief moment. "Much better," he adds quietly.

Now Vince's smile is completely real, and he lets go of Howard's hands. Howard feels a brief moment of utter despair before Vince tackle-hugs him, and Howard staggers backwards a step with the sudden added weight.

It's a bit strange, but mostly nice, to know that Vince is smiling because Howard can feel it just above his collarbone. "You smell like dung," Vince says into his neck, and Howard goes still with embarrassment. After a moment of Howard not moving at all, Vince lifts his head to look Howard in the eyes and says, "I'm joking. Relax. And hug me back, you idiot."

Howard thinks. Oh, right. His arms. He should use them. So he does, and it's possibly the greatest moment in his life so far, standing in the aviary hugging Vince without it feeling creepy or impossible. It's just really, really nice.

Then a voice says, "Oh, how sweet."

Howard looks toward the door and sees Bainbridge, stroking his moustache and smirking. Howard is about to remove his arms from around Vince and salvage what's left of his dignity when Vince says, very audibly despite the fact that he's speaking into Howard's neck, "Screw you."

"Oh dear," Bainbridge says, "someone's got a bit of a temper. Never mind, I have a very special assignment for you two that I think will fix that. I'll let Fossil tell you tomorrow. Don't you love suspense? Have a good night."

Howard watches Bainbridge leave. "What was that about?"

Vince lifts his head. "He's a dick."

Howard laughs. He has no reason to be concerned about this assignment when Vince is so very close to him. Still, he stores it away in the back of his brain, to be thought about in the future. The very distant future.

Vince laughs too, and slips out of the hug to face the door. "Should we go home? I'm starving."

_Home_, Howard thinks, _a tiny little house with no beds._ But he supposes it is their home—theirs. Together. That's a nice thought.

"Yeah," Howard says, and this time, he's the one who reaches out to take Vince's hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Last chapter...hope you enjoy!**

Something heavy is sitting on Howard's chest, and not metaphorically this time. It's still very early, though; he can tell by the amount of light filtering through his eyelids. Just as he decides to sleep now and investigate later, there's a loud crash, and a voice yells, "Wakey-wakey time!"

The thing on his chest shifts. Howard grudgingly opens his eyes and discovers that the thing is Vince, who is practically draped over him like a sleepy cat. He's glaring at something, although embarrassment and a bit of pride are blocking Howard's view of it. Also Vince's hair.

He blinks as Vince says, "It's 6 o'clock! Go away!"

Howard focuses. Bob Fossil is standing in the doorway. _Dear God, why?_

"Oh." Fossil looks down at his wrist, on which there is nothing but a staple buried in his skin. _Does he fight with that thing and lose or what?_ "I knew that!"

Then he leaves, slamming the door behind him. It bounces off the frame and flies backwards, hitting the wall and staying there.

"He broke the hinges," Howard says. He means for it to come out sounding incredulous, but it just sounds very sleepy.

"Hmm," Vince says. He surveys the damage from the vantage point of Howard's upper body. "Didn't know he was that strong."

There's a pause. Then Vince says, "Work starts in three hours. Did you set the alarm?"

"Yeah," Howard says.

They both go back to sleep.

When Fossil comes back, Vince and Howard are actually awake and eating breakfast while having a heated discussion about the pandas.

"I honestly think she's lonely," Vince says. "I mean, she won't even speak to me! You'd have to be very depressed to not want to talk to me."

"She's got the male panda, she could…I dunno…make something happen if she wanted to, I don't see what the big deal is—"

"I think he's rude to her, and that's why she doesn't like him."

"I don't—"

"GOOD MORNING!" Fossil screams.

"No door to break down this time," Vince says. "How sad."

"Oh, Vincey," Fossil says, "there are lots of things that make me sad. Like soggy pancakes."

There's a pause, then Howard says, "Yeah, those are quite rotten."

"Anyway! Bainbridge has an assignment for you. A very, very special assignment that he told me personally."

"Another lion escape?" Vince asks nonchalantly. "Just find an antelope, that'll sort itself right out."

"No!" Fossil says. "Besides, we're out of antelopes."

"Out of antelopes?" Howard whispers to Vince. Vince shrugs.

"SHUT UP! This is a very scary, long, and terrifying assignment!"

"You said 'scary' and 'terrifying.' Those are synonyms, meaning you don't really need both of them—"

"YOU'RE GOING TO AMERICA TO CATCH A MAN-EATING SHREW! FIVE OTHER EMPLOYEES BEFORE YOU HAVE DIED! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT?"

Howard is about to say, "Your voice is very loud," but this information stops the words in his throat. Man-eating shrew? _Shrews are small, but I've heard they can be nasty. And five employees? That is a bit terrifying. …Very terrifying._

"Man-eating shrew?" Vince asks. "Shrews are well tiny; they can't eat men. Nibble their toes, maybe, give 'em diseases—"

Fossil pulls a picture out of nowhere and brandishes it at them. "Have a look at this," he says triumphantly. The shrew in the picture is, indeed, quite large. Howard involuntarily recoils a little.

"Yeah, not so tough now, are you?" Fossil asks. "Pack up, coz you're leaving in an hour!"

"How're we getting there?" Howard asks.

Fossil glances around shiftily. "By train." And then he flees through the broken door.

"You can't take a train to America!" Howard yells after him, but Vince claps a hand over his mouth and says, "Shh! Listen."

From outside, Bainbridge says, "Did you tell them?"

"Yes, Bainbridge," Fossil says. "They were very afraid."

"Did you show them the picture?"

"Of the shrew in comparison to an ant, making it look really big? Yeah," Fossil says, and he giggles. "They fell for it!"

"They always do," Bainbridge says. "Good job, Bobby. Would you like some ice cream?"

"Oh, yes, Bainbridge!" Fossil squeaks. Then the voices die down to below hearing level.

"Two comments," Vince says. "One, that was well disgusting. I'm glad we're leaving that filth. And two, it was a trick shrew, so we've got nothing to worry about!" He smiles at Howard, who is staring into his cereal.

Vince's smile disappears. "What's wrong, Howard?"

"I wish I knew how long we'd be gone," Howard says, "and therefore, how many shades of brown need to go in my suitcase. Also," he pauses, looks at Vince, then looks away again, blushing, "I'm still a bit nervous."

"Aw, c'mon, Howard," Vince says. "It's a shrew. The only way it's eating us is if we shrink. Very, very small. It's just not possible!"

"But five employees died!" Howard cries.

"Yeah, that part doesn't sound too good," Vince concedes. "But hey, think of all the fame we'd achieve if we come back alive!"

"If!" Howard shrieks. "That's exactly it, Vince, I don't wanna die!"

"Look, let's just pack and make the best of this, yeah?" Vince is smiling. Howard sees this and it calms him, if only a little.

"All right."

They pack in silence, but Howard's mind never shuts up the entire time. They may very well die, both of them, on this assignment, and there's something he has to say to Vince if this is indeed the case. True to form, he plans a speech, and when the packing is done about half an hour later, he corners Vince by the remains of their door. Not exactly the most ideal place, but he doesn't want to postpone and therefore run the risk of forgetting his carefully-planned speech.

"Vince," Howard says.

Vince drops a bag in the doorframe, turns around, and says, "Yeah?"

Howard takes a deep breath to steel his nerves, then reaches out and takes Vince's hands in his own. Vince smiles, but there's a questioning in his eyes.

"I have something I need to tell you," Howard says.

Vince's face falls. "Oh, no," he says, "do you have a disease? Are you gonna die and leave me alone? I can't face that shrew on my own, Howard, it'd destroy me!"

"No, no," Howard says. "I just wanted to say that I'm…Vince, you're so wonderful," he gushes, surprising himself with his own sappy enthusiasm.

Vince smiles. "Well, that's better news."

Howard ignores him and rushes on through his speech. "You're so wonderful, and amazing, and funny…and beautiful," he adds, looking down at their shoes pointed towards each other.

Vince is smiling a half-smile of understanding. It's taking all his willpower not to break out in a massive, blinding grin.

"Vince," Howard says, looking back up into his eyes, "I…well…" _Dammit, you've come this far. Just say it._

Vince's smile grows. "I think I know what you want to say."

"No, just, let me finish," Howard says, insistent despite the rising blush on his face.

Vince smiles reassuringly at him and removes his hands from Howard's.

A million thoughts, all very self-deprecating, race through Howard's mind at once. _Of course he doesn't love you back. He really is perfect, and perfect people don't end up with complete nutters like you. He doesn't deserve—_

Vince's hands are on Howard's face. This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't in the script—then Vince kisses him hard on the mouth, and Howard is very glad he didn't write this into the script, because he couldn't have imagined it to be as good as it is.

It ends all too quickly. Vince smiles cheekily at him, his hands still on Howard's face, and says, "Did you have something to tell me?"

This time, Howard has no problem articulating his thoughts. "I love you," he says immediately, and Vince grins hugely.

Vince slides his hands down Howard's neck and shoulders to end clasping around his back in a rib-breaking hug. His mouth touches Howard's ear as he says, "I love you too, Howard."

It takes Howard a minute to realize that this is reality and not a soon-to-be-depressing dream, and when he catches up, he wraps his arms around Vince just as tightly. Maybe they'll have matching rib bruises.

Howard realizes he's grinning like a complete idiot, and then he realizes that he can hide it in Vince's hair. Just as he's about to take advantage of this, however, Vince says, "This is gonna be okay, yeah?"

"What?" Howard asks.

Vince pulls away, but his hands remain on Howard's shoulders. Howard holds him round the waist, unwilling to let go. "You know," Vince says, "the assignment. The shrew. Us."

Howard laughs. "Yeah," he says. "It'll be okay."

Vince beams. "D'you know what we should do?"

"Hmm?"

"We should kiss some more. That was nice."

Howard silently agrees, and pulls Vince to his chest, beaming.

From outside, Bob Fossil says, very quietly, "Good riddance…hey, where's my ice cream?"

**I'm thinking about potentially writing a sequel detailing the shrew adventures. We'll see. Thanks for sticking with this fic!**


End file.
